My risk

I know this is the long awaited posted. You each have been waiting with bated breath to see what risk I will take. What new adventure will God call me to? I fear many of you will be disappointed with this post, or with me, but this is what I've got so far.

I am currently sitting in a dorm room in San Diego, CA. I've just dropped Herb at the airport and I'm settling in to my room. I am here for an AP conference, alone. This is risky for me. As I have been known to say, "I don't do alone well." And it's true. I cease to be brave once I've lost my amigos. There is something comforting to me in the presence of another human being I know well. I can brave the LA freeways, if Melinda's sitting in the passenger seat. I can navigate a new campus and a new system, if my mom is there or a phone call away. I can try new adventures, experience new places, if Herb is by my side. But ask me to navigate a major freeway alone, explore a campus I'm unfamiliar with (and make it places on time), and experience new places by myself and I am at a loss. I don't really like big freeways or daunting driving anyway, but going it alone is just fearful for me.

I've been thinking about this all weekend. Wondering why I can't be brave. Why do I fear major city driving? Why am I afraid to navigate in new places by myself? Why, at 25 years of age, do I feel at a loss when traveling solo? Honestly, it makes me feel like a coward. It makes me wonder how I can ever be a mom. If I take my kids somewhere and I'm in charge of driving and navigating, I'd better not freak out. If they are yelling in the backseat, I'd better stay level headed enough to keep it together. Yet I don't feel like I'm there. I feel like a big chicken. And I began to feel the anxiety of being alone four hours before Herb even left me. I began worrying about how I'd make it back from the airport and figure out my situation. What a scaredy-cat!

Which is why I am writing you now. As I left Herb at the airport, tears trickling down my cheeks, I made a decision. This is my risk. I am going to take it one risk at a time. I got in my car and drove myself safely back to the dorm, merging and changing lanes on a major CA highway! I got to my room and I set up my things, preparing myself for the day tomorrow. I spoke to the front desk and negotiated my computer into accessing the internet. Small victories, small risks, but mine none the less. I did these things by myself. I didn't call my mom and consult how to solve the problem. I didn't have Herb talk to me the whole way back to the dorm via cell phone. I did it. Unaccompanied. And tomorrow, I'll set my alarm clock, get ready, find the dining hall and my class on time. I can do this. I can. This is my risk, to trust myself to be alone.

And I can do this because I am not alone. I invited God into the passenger seat of the car with me. He'll sleep in the bed next to me tonight. He'll sit on the couch with me while I read my book. I am not alone, and I need to learn that. I need to learn that facing fears means embracing trust. And I know only one person who I can place complete trust in. It is going to be okay because I am not alone!

And now, I have to make a confession, not only am I not alone right now, but I am not going to be alone in 24 hours either. Melinda will be joining me tomorrow. You're laughing right now, aren't you? Be honest, I can hear it in my head. "You're kidding me, right Katie? All this talk about taking risks and being alone, and it's only for 24 measly hours?! You can't be serious! Buck it up and take it!" You're right, it is ridiculous that a girl of 25 has to pep talk herself into being alone. But as I've said, I don't do alone well. So this is my chance, be it small, to practice being alone. There is no loss is small victories, and this will be one of mine. I will practice and I will try and I will risk. Not without fear, but I am going to do it. Not just today, and not just tomorrow, but I am going to practice being alone, doing things by myself. Pray for me because for me it is a risk, and it can only be entered into with great love and compassion from others and from God. Here I go...I'll keep you posted.

2 AM Wake Up Call

As some of you know, I've been fighting something all week long.  Sore throat, snot, stomach ache, overall ache.  In general I don't do the laying low well, but I have attempted to the last two days.  I tried to nap, read a good book (nothing good at all was on TV), I didn't even work out or clean my house (huge moral victory!)  But that didn't stop my body from attacking me!

2 AM I am wide awake.  Apparently I had draped my arm across my neck and my glands were so swollen that it hurt to touch.  So I got up and attempted to rid myself of snot and climbed back in bed.  No good.  My throat was throbbing and the pain kept my eyes wide open. I got up a few more times, used a flashlight to check my throat--looked white a spotty to me. Arg...I laid there trying to surrender my aching body to the Lord, trying to trust Him.  But these thoughts kept flowing through my head:

Why can't we call the doctor in the  middle of the night? 8 AM feels so far away!

Why isn't there a take home strep test that I can just pick up at Walgreens?

Why did I throw away all of the expired drugs in the de-cluttering process?

I remember all the times the doctor asked me if my sore throat was keeping me up.  I responded of course not, and he reassured me that he would prescribe me some pain meds if it became a problem.  I'd take those now!

But come 2:45 when I just couldn't take it any more, I fell on Mom's home remedy.  I gargled with warm salt water for so long a DUI officer might have mistaken me for being drunk on the ocean.  Although it's not fun choking on saline, it was enough to ease my aching throat and allow me to find sleep again.  Praise God!

In the throes of last night, I set the alarm for 8 AM so I could call the doctor.  When I heard that precious beeping this morning I awoke to an almost, key word almost, painless throat. Yay, I think.  Why is it that when you've finally set your mind on going to the doctor, your symptoms seems to subside?  So I'm waiting it out.  I gargled again, been drinking hot liquids and I definitely haven't returned to the 2 AM level of pain.  Hopefully this doesn't kick me in the butt.  Hopefully come tomorrow I will have no pain or snot, and I'll be able to enjoy my birthday festivities in peace.  And hopefully 2 AM won't be a time of the night I see for a while. We all know I don't do well without my beauty sleep. 

Clutter

To my great annoyance our apartment complex asked Herb and I to empty out all of our cabinets, drawers and closet floors for exterminators to come spray the place.  They gave us the notice Thursday and it had to be done by Monday.  Short notice, frustrating, but at least it didn't give me too much time to dwell on the ridiculousness of the task!

Come Sunday morning, Herb and I rose and began the odious job of emptying out all of our storage spaces.  I was determined to attempt to use the time to "spring clean", give away unneeded things and wipe down all of our cabinets.  Three garbage bags and four give away bags later our house was a complete disaster area!  Our kitchen contents alone occupied the whole of our dining room table, coffee table and pink chairs!  I reminded Herb that this is why the biggest room in our eventual home needs to be the kitchen.  He said he never doubted that fact for a moment.  Our emptied closets consumed the floor of the office entirely!  Our bathroom lived in two laundry baskets.  We have so much stuff, and yet I struggled to know what to get rid of.  Much of it is useful and much of it is sentimental, yet all of it felt like clutter. Perhaps that's just because it was spread all over my house!  Herb and I both had quite the aversion to the clutter generated, and he declared that as soon as we were showered we weren't returning to the house until bedtime.  So we left.

We went to lunch, to the movies, to the mall, to church, to some friends' house and fully escaped our home for the day.  Although I was happy to be away from the clutter, I so disliked not seeing the inside of my home all day long.  Especially on a Sunday, my supposed day of rest. Even though all of the activities we did seem unlike work, it still wasn't the same type of rest generated by sitting on my couch watching a good baseball game.  Nevertheless we escaped our home for day one.

Day two arrived and the exterminators ousted us again in a different way.  They were scheduled to arrive between 9 and 10 and we weren't allowed near our apartment for four hours after they finished. Oy!  So Herb and I left again to try and fill our days with non-home locations.  Herb went to school, as did I.  Not only was I ousted, but I really wasn't feeling well.  I just wanted to be home in my bed, but alas, that was not to be.  So off I trudged to be productive at school.  I did find some reprieve in lunch and a movie with a good friend in the afternoon.  But I knew that once I arrived home, I still had to face the clutter!  Arg!

When we returned come evening, we began the tedious task of putting everything back.  Two more garbage bags full, and one more give away bag later, we had returned items to their rightful location.  We do have a bit more space and a bit less clutter, but the days left me impatient in our house buying process.  I don't want to feel like we're sufficiently wedged in every nook and cranny of this space we've rented.  I don't want to feel like there is no more room for anything else.  But that's how I feel.  And I question this emotion.  Shouldn't I just get rid of more things?  Live more simplistically? Embrace the small space?  After all, this is the reality for so many people around the US and the world.  I should be content. Get rid of clutter. But should be and is are sometimes distant destinations.

The truth is Herb and I will be fine in this apartment.  God will provide for us, protect us, and make room for us here.  But I will still dream of more, and someday more will become a reality.  Until then, I will do my very best to hold the clutter at bay.  At least I've gotten good at hiding it away. Just ask my living room floor how much was really in my cabinets and drawers!

My Story

I finished reading C.S.  Lewis' The Horse and His Boy yesterday.  I do love the Chronicles of Narnia for all the truth hidden in the allegories.  It is impossible to miss the meanings imbedded in these children's stories, truths that are so invaluable.  Several times in this particular book Aslan tells the characters, "I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own."  These sentences have great power, but difficult truth beneath their surfaces.

I think it is important to realize that God is about revealing our story to us.  In His own time, in His own manner.  But I think it is extremely difficult for us to embrace the truth that we don't need to know the stories of others.  Or at least, it is extremely difficult for me to embrace. I enjoy being a part of others stories, I love inviting others into my story.  Yet God doesn't have to reveal their stories to me.  It's not my place to know the stories of others.  If they choose to share it with me, I should consider myself blessed, but I don't have to know it all.

Sometimes in our quest for knowledge, this insatiable thirst that is essential to growing and changing, we seek to know things that are not for us to understand.  It's almost the same idea as gossip; we want to know claiming that knowledge isn't a bad thing.  But sometimes the knowing can be hurtful or isn't any of our business.  Where I struggle is in the balance of things.  How do we determine knowledge that is for our refinement and edification?  How do we know where to stop, the line we should not cross?  How do we know the times when we should ask the hard questions of a friend and when we should back off?  How do we know?

Maybe the lesson is that it's not about our knowing but rather about our discerning.  It is less about the facts we can spew and more about the guiding voice we hear.  I'm finding more and more that the answer lies in intimacy with God, in hearing the shepherd's voice.  I need to rely on Him to tell me, just as He told Shasta "I am telling you your story, not hers."  And may God help me to be content with what I know of my story.  Lord knows my story is complicated enough as it is.  I do not want to lose my thirst for knowledge, but rather I want to refine it, so that the knowledge I seek is for my edification, for advancing the plot of my own story.  

May I also remember that "Knowledge makes arrogant, but love edifies" (1 Cornithians 8:1).  It is not in knowing the stories of others, but in loving them that the greatest changes will occur. Let the theme of my story always be love.

The Great Risk-"May it be as you have said"

I've written before about how God orchestrates details and conversations in our lives to reveal a greater theme.  Sometimes it is more obvious than others, but once you catch on to the meaning you can't help but see it everywhere.  Well, I've caught on, and it's everywhere!

It started last Thursday driving home from Disneyland with Melinda.  We were talking about this and that trying to catch up on weeks of missed conversations.  I landed on Herb's graduation and our impending future.  I said, "Herb took a huge risk in going to law school, and now he is encountering a whole new risk in applying for jobs."  And Melinda, being the thought-provoking, calling me on stuff kind of friend that she is asked me, "So what risks are you going to take this year?"  Woah!  What a question! I dunno...I'll have to think about it.  Teaching new classes, trying new ideas, but risks in the classroom are pretty much standard for me.  It's funny but I'm very willing to step out on new ideas in my classroom, something I'm not readily willing to do in life.  So classroom risks, okay, but what about risks in other areas of my life?  Hmmm...

Arrive at Sunday, heading to church for our study on the book of Daniel.  Glen is preaching on Chapter 2 and how Daniel boldly tells King Nebby-K that he can recount and divine his dream before even consulting God.  After boldly declaring what could happen, Daniel goes to fervently ask the Lord to make this act possible.  Daniel stepped out in faith and prayed later, an act which Glen called true faith.  Glen challenged us to take "risks" (there's that word again) without analyzing, thinking it through, making sure it's just the right thing for us to do.  In other words He called us to step out in faith without weighing what the consequences would be to ourselves.  Again, I felt a stirring, a conviction.  I am often so concerned about how God's calling will affect me, affect my plan for my life.  Maybe I should take a risk...

Then here we are on Monday morning, reading my chapter in Having a Mary Spirit.  The chapter is entitled A Willing Spirit and addresses Mary, the mother of God, and her willingness to respond to God's calling with a resounding "May it be as you have said."  Mary laid "down her own hopes and dreams so that His plans and purposes could come to pass."  What a risk it was to knowingly accept unwed pregnancy in a time when she could be stoned for that act! What a risk it was to lay her engagement on the line!  What a risk it was ponder those things in her heart instead of "justifying" herself to the city!  What a risk to allow her Son to live a ministry away from her side!  What a risk to stay with him as He was crucified!  Mary said "yes" to the challenges God offered to her.  She was willing, even when it was hard, when it seemed unbearable.  She did not weigh how others would look at her or what the implications of her "yes" would be.  She said "yes" and trusted.  What faith!  What unimaginable but right in front of us sort of faith!

Both Thursday, last night and this morning similar questions were posed to me: What is God calling you to do? How is He asking you to step out in faith? What risk are you going to take? The answer is: I don't know yet.  I haven't felt His leading yet.  I'm not sure what is being asked of me.  In a sense, I stand here frightened because this has been quite the build-up.  Is God preparing me to say "yes" to something huge and scary?  When the time comes, will I listen? Will I respond to the calling?  I hope so.  I'm not a big risk-taker by nature; I am super-analytical weighing each and every element.  So this is counter to my comfort, but heck, I'm learning that that's really what following God is all about.  We truly are living in a counter-culture of counter-comfort.  I think we truly have a choice to embrace it or not.

In the Mary Spirit book she juxtaposes the story of Mary's trusting response to Zechariah's unbelief.  I've never really looked at the two together before.  Both characters were visited by the angel Gabriel and given news that would alter their course, but their responses were vastly different.  Mary responded with a resounding "yes" and turned around to praise God for His magnificence.  Zechariah responded by questioning, doubting and God silenced him for the next nine months.  The author points out that in both situations the Lord's will was done, but where Mary got to sing, Zechariah missed out on the worship.  God's will is going to be done.  The question is: will we be singing, glorifying Him with our lives, or will we be silent?  Hopefully we choose to sing, responding with the words: "May it be as you have said."